• i sat on the stump for at least an hour, though the sky ad turned dark as i made my way slowly back home. it was the shock that kept me rooted to that stump, but it was what i would find at home that kept me out doors. i left the wooded area and climbed the hill soon finding the dirt path that lead to my front door.the cool night did not give away the sorrow that filled me. the light breeze did not show the desaster that i was sure to find when i opened the wood door. but i could not stay away forever.
    as i stepped inside i smelt dinner and a lit pipe. smoke clung to the air make my fathers shape blury next to the fire.he stared unblinking at the flames that consumed all in their path. my mother rocked in her chair sniffing while she stared at her husband. i turned to the kitchen and sat where my plate was layed out. i didn't touch.to tell the truth none of us had eaten enything all day. the news had came that morning.
    a man came to our door. a freind of richards. he was welcomed warmly. news of richard was little to none and to meet a friend of his was a wonderful treat.
    "How is my boy. clean and fed i hope." said my mother.
    "he is at war! lucky for a peice of bread let alone a bath."exclaimed my father. mother frowned but smiled at my brothers freind. " i am sorry Dear. what did you say your name was?"
    " the man looked up and solemly answered, "James mis' James Roland." it was then that i noticed that he looked more then beaten from a war. this was not a soldier who had seen terrible things but come to say hello and remmeber days that he wished he could see. this was a man barring the news of the dead. perhaps a dead friend. when i came to this relization, my eyes haveing teared up, James had decided to tell us what he had to say.
    "....ambushed. he was fine till dusk. only three of us came out of that fight alive and it was your son, sir, how got us out.we had no way of helping him. we didn't even know he was that hurt till he collapsed." he never said sorry and i think that that showed that he truley was a friend. it showed that he understood what those words felt like. i think that after he finished my mother did not speak. my father i believe nodded to james and grabbed him by the shoulder. i remmember their lips moveing and the tears on her face. the feel of the tears on my face. but after the story was done and told my eyes unfocused and a piece of my heart disinigrated. james left soon after, shaking his head no when ask if he would like to stayhere the night then the inn.
    i think i left the house after he left. all i know is i found myself on the stump and stayed theretill i could feel my legs again. when i looked at the fading sun and whispered, "Bye. bye richard. ill see you soon."